The Other Voice

I do not sing as you sing
i have my singing
and i sing my way.

i do not light up the candles as you do
i have my arrangements
i have the illumination mine.

i have my rituals,
i have my festivals too and
i feast on them in my own way.

I have the words knitted,
verses composed
i have the melodies
beats,
rhythms,
i feel the pulse in my hearty way.

i have the songs sinful,virtuous
mortal-immortal
I have the times
past,present and moments ahead
I have signature at my finger tip
i sign mine
in a modulated way.
I have the sun and the moon shiny
i have thoughts linear and convoluted,
I glimmer mine way.
i have beliefs and disbeliefs also
i have assertions,
dessertions, musing the nearer and distant.

I have the horizons
emerging,
sinking and
emerging again.
I credit to the plains and deserts stretched -
to the furrows deep -
hills and mountains high.

I swim to the seas,
ocean turbulents.
i charm at the clouds
still and
wandering
i look the skies,
the galaxy,
the milky way and follow the steps in a destined way.
i adore the adorable
in my way.

(Quaid - Uz - Zaman, Station Road, Jamalpur.)